Rap is Outta Control

Lyrics

[Intro] Tom J in the house Rap is outta control Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom— Tom J in the house Rap is outta control Rap is outta control Rap is outta control (G, man) Rap is outta control Rap is outta control Rap is outta control [Verse 1: Erick Sermon] G, man, do I have the power like He-Man? To crack a wack MC's head open like a pecan? Damn, my name should become Sam But I prefer that Grand Royal for the jam I'm pulling heads out, the guns I use to pump lead out Hey, son, I suggest that you head out I total, cremate, strike 'em like Flex I won't break, I make more nerves than a earthquake Strong, got more strength than King Kong I'm worldwide, I'm interviewed with Connie Chung I'm on now, live at 12, it's so dope All the way to 4 o'clock, there no soaps I'm able to rock the mic nice and stable It's a chance that you might see me on Cable Vision, Showtime or HBO with the flow Getting more play than Rambo Ayo, what do you know? Party people, rap is outta control Rap is outta control, it's definitely, fuckin', it's outta control Rap is outta control, rap is definitely outta control It's outta control, rap is outta control [Verse 2: PMD] Straight from the underground where universal beatdown is a must Yo, I smell crab MC, E (Too late, he got crushed) Was he a pop-rap singer, R&B swinger? A faggot who jumped the gate and now you get the finger? In other words, it's absurd to try to get with The brother from Brentwood, Long Island nicknamed Swift Lip I'm too smooth and yes, I groove to the slam track With a Beck's in my right hand, left hand on bozack I move on ya posse, first reaction was "Oh shit Let's do that brother, hell no (Why?), he's too quick" So dial 1-900-55-EAT-SHIT I pack a twelve-shot nine mil' and, yes, I still kick (What?) Ass like a jock (Height?), 6'3" and stocky (Last name?) Not Balboa, so motherfuck Rocky I'm the mainstream supreme, slammin' like Hakeem The Dream And, yes, sometimes it may seem that [Chorus] Rap is outta control Rap is outta control, for sure dude Rap-ra-ra-rap-rap, ra-ra, for sure dude Rap is outta control Yes, yes y'all, yes y'all Yes y'all, yes y'all, kick it E [Verse 3: Erick Sermon & PMD] I stand tall, I won't fall, I recall Haha, your rhymes stall When I bust caps until they Kryptonite caps I bring the steel, I swap bullets like caps I'm like Superman Fly high, way up in the sky And if you try to shoot me down, clown, I won't die I cremate, I hate, let's exterminate Wait for a second, E, time to debate As I take my fisherman hat off, there's no hap For an MC on a trail of a mere comeback I rock fisherman buckets, no top hats And if you wanna see a flick—